Lucky Austria
by Moscovitz-Eaton
Summary: Drabbles and one-shots and all of that. Chiefly Dalek.
1. Belle and Sebastian and Darwinists!

**A.N. Ha. Ha ha ha. I tried to do something similar to the Shuffle game, but JUST WITH BELLE AND SEBASTIAN SONGS. Probably because I am kind of an idiot. Anyway, I know 2 and 4 are extremely similar... but what can I say? I like writing besotted!Alek.**

**ALSO. The end of The Fox In The Snow's kind of inspired by a certain in-tree make out drawing by The Prince Of Parties on dA. Go find it!**

1. Seeing Other People

Adela Rogers was incorrigible.

Lilit eyed the sopping wet siloutette hovering in the doorframe of her New York apartment. Adela tried for a smile. "See, Lilit, I–"

"Adela, we can't keep doing this forever. You know that, don't you?"

When she didn't respond, Lilit sighed, and with a mutter of annoyance, she rose. "You know where the linens are. I'll get the tea."

Ostensibly, Adela really, really didn't mean to end up there. "I mean, I was just walking, and–boom! The sky split!"

Lilit nooded, making quite sure her disbelief was apparent on her face. "I see. And as to why you were frequenting downtown?"

Adela shrugged. "I like taking walks up here."

"Mmhmm." Lili took a sip of her drink, then turned to face the fabulist in her living room. "When, may I ask, do you plan on taking permaneant residence in the nice flat we've secured for you on the other side of the island?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

Lilit raised an eyebrow, and Adela quickly dropped the pretense. "Is it really so awful that I prefer yours?"

"Yes, it is," Lilit said, "considering that we've agreed to revert to being merely friends. Have we not?"

Adela rolled her eyes. "The words used were 'seeing other people'. We said nothing about seeing each other. Or," she added, "any of that 'just friends' business!"

Lilit sighed once again. "I think together we have amptly proved what a bad idea it is for us to see each other in a romantic capacity, Adela."

"And look how this whole pretending not to be hopelessly in love thing turned out for the prince and that girl!" She seemed not to have heard Lilit at all. Perhaps she hadn't, in her fervor not to absorb anything said by her. "They both nearly got themselves hung. It's dangerous!"

"Yes, but you're forgetting: Deryn was disguised as a man, remember? And seeing as how we're in a similar predicament, really, it would be better if we simply acted as close friends." Now it's her turn to roll her eyes. "Adela, honestly–mmf!"

Lilit is still quite cross with Adela. In fact, she supposes the next time she appears at her door at midnight, fresh from the rain, Lilit will slam it in her face, beautiful or otherwise.

But could it really hurt to spend one more night together?

2. If She Wants Me

Alek's life is in complete and utter chaos.

His future was perfect. Take your lessons well; rise to the throne modestly; marry a suitably royal–and, hopefully, not painfully dull–girl; rule Austria-Este fairly and well.

Those dreams are in ruins now.

Perhaps he said goodbye to them the moment her heard the news of his parents' deaths–maybe he accepted his fate when he slipped from the Swiss castle to rescue the Leviathan. But Alek is reasonably sure a certain girl by name of Deryn Sharp has had something to do with it.

He's pondered long and hard, and he's come to the conclusion that his adieu to a life of royalty took place the moment Deryn opened her eyes and announced her thanks at his having saved her from a frostbitten bum. That, at least, is the logical point at which his existence lost all logic.

Alek can't say he doesn't miss his former life, at times. His place in the world so assured, a secure chance to do one perfect thing–it sounds lovely, some days. But then he looks at Deryn, and he realizes:

As long as she wants him, he'd take being here with his best friend any day.

3. Get Me Away From Here, I'm Dying

The sky is so much larger than Glasgow.

Deryn's head spins. It's almost overwhelming, how great everything is up there compared to how small everything is down here. Here, where she wears dresses and her hair long and minds her manners (mostly) and sits like a respectable young lady.

If she doesn't get away, she might die.

But that infinite blueness seems like it would be a passable escape.

4. The Fox In The Snow

"Are you glad?"

Alek glances up from the paper at Deryn. She's been a bit daft (in a perfectly charming way, of course) since the frost began to melt and the flowers started to bloom, and Alek's fairly certain she would've set the Zoological Society on fire via telekinesis if she didn't get out, if only for a day. Therefore, when she begged him for the twentieth time to come to the park with her instead of attending another dull meeting, Alek couldn't exactly say no.

Besides, she's not the only one with spring fever.

"Hm?" He shifts into a more comfortable position in the tree where they've taken up residence (Deryn's suggestion, a strategy to avoid being discovered by roving counts and lady boffins). Deryn's a world better at climbing than he, and she's executing some casual gymnastics as they speak. "Glad of what, Liebe?"

She rolls her eyes. "What do you think, ninny? Glad you came out and saved me in the Alps."

Needless to say, this is not actually such an obvious continuation of her thought, but Alek chooses not to comment on such. "Of course," he says. "You could've sustained a gravely frostbitten bum."

Deryn nudges him. "Honestly, Alek."

"Didn't I reply while the Leviathan was still stuck?" He thinks back. "I said I was pleased I'd saved you."

"Yes, but that was before..." She shrugs. "You know."

Before he abdicated in favor of spending his life with a commoner.

Suddenly, Deryn looks self-conscious. She ceases swinging and perches towards the end of the branch.

She's beautiful. She's the most beautiful, amazing girl he's ever met, and he's hers.

What would his life have been if he'd stayed there, in that castle? The war would still be raging, probably; the Leviathan and its crew may well have perished; and he'd be going nowhere.

Being a prince stopped being agreeable the night his parents died.

"More than ever." And he pulls her close to show her just how glad he is.

5. Me and The Major

Volger is extremely unhappy in London.

It's obvious to everyone, but Alek is the only one who has to shoulder the wildcount's complaints, of which there are many. From the dreary weather and constant sleet to the Zoological Society's apparent ungodliness to Dr. Barlow's absolutely tiresome husband (Alek has to stifle a laugh whenever Volger goes on a tangent about how "uncouth" poor Alan is), there's always another grievance to be made about England and Darwinism and what a mess Alek's gotten them into.

But the most common topic of protest with Volger, is, of course, Deryn.

"I can't say why you are so... intrigued by her," Volger is saying, "but she's quite mad, Your Highness." The wildcount, probably in deep denial, refuses to address Alek by anything but his (now-obsolete) royal title. "There's always time to change your mind about all of this–"

Alek walks away, laughing. Volger doesn't understand and he doesn't try, but it stopped scaring him long ago.


	2. I don't belong here

**A.N. Anarchist lesbians and Radiohead, whee!** **Anyway, the quote is from the lovely Creep by Radiohead. Which anyone who has turned on a modern rock radio station ever will know. But I DON'T CARE OK I AM DISCLAIMING**

**Characters belong to Scott Westerfeld**

_I want you to notice_

_When I'm not around_

_I wish I was special_

_You're so fucking special_

Lilit's begun, when her mind is free for a moment or two, to sort through female names similar to Dylan. Diana, Dorothy, Daria–they all sound bizarre when applied to the brave, funny, beautiful girl she knows. So she's stopped. Dylan will have to do for now.

The first inkling came, Lilit supposes, the day they met–or, rather, the day Dylan and Aleksander were reunited, as Lilit's sure Sharp will remember the occasion. Her eyes (preternaturally blue, and with surprisingly dark lashes for someone so fair) had fixated on hers with a hostility not usually relished on new acquaintences–the look, in fact, spoke quite clearly of jealousy.

Something tells Lilit the two will be happy someday. Alek and Dylan, that is. He may not know it yet, but when the prince's mind is idle, it's fairly obvious that his gaze reverts to Dylan much the same way the girl's snaps to him. The stupid boy doesn't, of course, allow himself to recognize the feelings (understandable, given the circumstances, but frustarating nontheless) for what they are, but he'll realize soon enough, and it'll be happily ever after for the archduke's son and the girl middie.

But what about Lilit?

She doesn't have Alek's problem, not at all. Lilit's completely frank with herself regarding the nature of her inclinations towards the girl soldier–and it's quite obvious to her that they're entirely non-platonic. Likewise, she conspicuously lacks the shame she supposes should be overwhelming her. But she sees no reason why Alek can be (albeit subconsciously) in love with someone who he perceives to be quite make and Dylan can dress as a boy for as long as she pleases, but Lilit can't like who she likes. No; Lilit understands hurt yearning for tall, golden-haired, clever Miss Sharp perfectly well.

It's only that the wanting hurts so much.

Perhaps it would be easier if she didn't know of Dylan's true identity. That way, Lilit could at least entertain fantasies that she has a chance. Instead, she's hopelessly infatuated with someone who could never even look at her the same way.

Whatever the girl's name, Lilit often wishes she'd never found the Hotel Hagia Sofia.


End file.
